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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033133">to be in love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturneatmidnight/pseuds/nocturneatmidnight'>nocturneatmidnight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, arashi suffers the most in this one actually, basically mao finds mayonaka no nocturne and oh no, they love each other they're just too dumbass to realise it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:28:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturneatmidnight/pseuds/nocturneatmidnight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd felt a burst of pride watching Ritsu work on the song, looking all adorable with tiny pouts and eyebrow-creases directed at sheets of paper. Trying hard to get the result he wanted with his own hands. (If Mao also felt a small pang because Ritsu was finally working on his own, gradually forsaking his support system, soon to forsake Mao himself as well, probably- Mao didn't say a word.) "The thing is that- well-"</p><p>  <em>Just my piano, the moon and you, in a transparent sky.</em></p><p>Mao's throat felt dry, all of a sudden, and he forcefully swallowed in an attempt to dampen it. It didn't work. "Do you think Ritsu's- in love with someone?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Isara Mao/Sakuma Ritsu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>to be in love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>mao’s wiki intro: ‘an amiable person whose forte is communication’<br/>me, tossing the word ‘communication’ out the window and replacing it with this fic: yeah cool</p><p>i have no idea what timeline solo songs are supposed to show up in, so for the sake of this fic, let's just say high school. also if you haven't listened to mayonaka no nocturne, what are you doing. go listen to it. it’s self care. and check out the eng translated lyrics for some good heartfelt (emphasis) <em>longing</em></p><p>that being said, a couple of random italicised lines in here are taken from the song. anyways yeah i finished this at like 3am, crashed for a couple of hours and now i’m awake to go through it again. enjoy</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, Narukami."</p><p>Arashi blinked at him for a moment, before a smile was blooming on her face like a flower unfurling its petals in the brightest patch of sunlight. "Mao-chan! To what do I owe the pleasure?"</p><p>Mao shifted from foot to foot, glancing around the otherwise empty classroom. The rest of their classmates should be well out the school gates by now, or preoccupied with club or unit activities. Arashi herself would be at Knights practice right now were it not for day duty.</p><p>…Knights practice. Where Ritsu was.</p><p>"I was just- wondering if I could ask you about something."</p><p>Arashi's eyes lit up, and before Mao knew it he was being tugged over to the nearest desk and seated on a chair. Arashi then pulled a chair out for herself, turning it around and sitting so she faced Mao across the desk. "Of <em> course, </em> Mao-chan, you know your onee-chan is all ears whenever you want to talk about anything." She crossed one leg over the other and leaned in, propping her cheek up on a palm. "What is it? Unit trouble? Student council trouble? <em> Boy </em> trouble?"</p><p>Mao felt his cheeks flush at the emphasis of the last option- Narukami was painfully perceptive sometimes. Well, not that Mao didn't already know that- her perceptiveness was why he'd chosen to speak to her about this, after all.</p><p>"Yeah, I..." Mao brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, looking around the classroom once more to double, triple, <em> quadruple </em> check that they were alone. "I wanted to ask if you knew something about- if- uh, Ritsu."</p><p>Oh, how eloquent Mao was today. Arashi raised her eyebrows at him. "I'm going to need a little more than that, Mao-chan."</p><p>Mao sighed, dragging his gaze away from Arashi's in favour of staring at his shoes. Then he forced himself to look right back up at her, because if her facial expressions were going to give anything away Mao was <em> not </em> going to miss them, damn it. "You know how we've been asked to think about our solo songs, right?"</p><p>Arashi hummed in response, twirling a pencil she'd produced from seemingly nowhere between her fingers. "Of course. Have you started on yours, Mao-chan?"</p><p>"Yeah, I have, and by the looks of it..." There was a sinking feeling in his chest, the same one he'd been experiencing ever since he'd paid the Sakuma household a visit after school yesterday. "So has Ritsu."</p><p>"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" Arashi asked, and the sparkly blue pencil went <em> flip, flip, flip </em> over her fingers, catching the light of the afternoon sun that leaked into the classroom through an open window. "I thought you'd be glad he's taking the initiative to get something done himself."</p><p>"Wh- don't get me wrong, I'm <em> thrilled," </em> Mao quickly said, because that much was true. He'd felt a burst of pride watching Ritsu work on the song, looking all adorable with tiny pouts and eyebrow-creases directed at sheets of paper. Trying hard to get the result he wanted with his own hands. (If Mao also felt a small pang because Ritsu was finally working on his own, gradually forsaking his support system, soon to forsake Mao himself as well, probably- Mao didn't say a word.) "The thing is that- well-"</p><p>
  <em> Just my piano, the moon and you, in a transparent sky. </em>
</p><p>Mao's throat felt dry, all of a sudden, and he forcefully swallowed in an attempt to dampen it. It didn't work. "Do you think Ritsu's- in love with someone?"</p><p>Manicured eyebrows shot up impossibly high. "What makes you think that, Mao-chan?"</p><p>"His song..." Mao felt a surge of <em> something, </em> ugly and overbearing, curl up in the depths of his chest. Like a sleeping dragon, one he was poking at with every word that came out of his mouth. "I accidentally read a bit of it. He needed a worksheet, and I went to get it for him since I was closer to his desk, and there were a whole bunch of papers, and..."</p><p>Mao trailed off. The creature in his chest was stirring, waking, making the fleshy confines of its cage feel tight and his heart feel as if it was going to squeeze itself right out of its meagre cavity. If it made an explosion in the process, then so be it. Arashi gave Mao a light poke in the cheek with the end of her pencil. "And what?"</p><p>"And it's practically a <em> love letter," </em> Mao spat, resentment and frustration and something else, something a little more raw and tender he wasn't eager to put a name on, all bubbling to the surface. "It's all gushy and painful and sentimental and- and <em> yearning </em> , like there's someone he loves but can't have, like- like-" <em> like me. </em> Ritsu loved someone, loved them so much his heart ached from a sadness he called <em> unrequited love, </em> and was basing an entire song on it, and Mao-</p><p>"Like?"</p><p>Mao was in love with Ritsu.</p><p>"Like <em> nothing." </em> Mao sighed, slumping backwards in his seat and letting his head fall back over the headrest, a few rogue strands of hair slipping free from their clip. "It's not- it isn't something I should be bothered with. Or worried about. Who he's in love with isn't any of my business." Mao wasn't sure when his mind had gone from <em> is Ritsu in love with someone </em> to <em> Ritsu is in love with someone and I don't know who, </em> but he figured it wasn't much of a stretch, anyway. "I just- do you know…?"</p><p>Arashi didn't reply. Mao lifted his head to look at her, and when he did, he found a strange mixture of emotions on her face. Was that- pity, a little amazement, and- <em> amusement? </em> God, Mao didn't know his problems were so much of a disaster that Arashi found them <em> amusing, </em> of all things. "What," Mao muttered, equal parts sheepish and annoyed.</p><p>"Mao-chan." Arashi schooled her expression back to a usual, more placid one, and idiotic as it was, Mao felt a little less like punching a wall. "Is there any specific reason you don't like the idea of Ritsu being in love with someone?"</p><p>"It's not that I <em> don't like </em> the idea of Ritsu being in love with someone, I just..." <em> don't like the idea of Ritsu being in love with someone who isn't me. </em></p><p>For what it was worth, Arashi didn't look like she needed Mao to complete the sentence out loud. There was something knowing in her gaze as she next spoke. "Have you asked Ritsu about his lyrics yourself, Mao-chan?"</p><p><em> How did you know it's the lyrics, </em> Mao didn't ask, because chances were that he already knew the answer. Ritsu had been getting advice about his song from Knights, when he usually would have asked Mao. Sure, Knights had a literal genius composer on their side, but still- Mao had known Ritsu practically all his life, and they'd always talked to each other about all sorts of things. The fact that Ritsu was turning to his unit rather than Mao for advice meant that clearly, he didn't want Mao to be a part of this. Asking Ritsu about the lyrics would probably be an invasion of privacy, since Ritsu hadn't shown Mao the lyrics on purpose himself. And even if Mao put all of that aside…</p><p>What if he asked Ritsu about the lyrics, and Ritsu actually told him about them? No sidestepping, no beating around the bush, just straight up told Mao that Ritsu was in love with someone else. He'd have to act like this was fine, then, like he wasn't watching his best friend talk about someone, someone who <em> wasn't Mao </em> with stars in his eyes and love in his chest. The very idea of it made Mao's stomach turn, and his heart crumble. He didn't want Ritsu to be in love with someone else. He wanted, <em> wanted- </em></p><p>"You know I can't ask him about them," Mao said quietly. A lone bird soared past the classroom window, mocking Mao with its cheerful titters. “He might find out about- whatever it is I’m feeling, and then he’ll hate me. Or something. I can’t risk our friendship like that, you know?”</p><p>If Ritsu found out about all of this and freaked out, or decided that Mao wasn’t someone he wanted to be around anymore, Mao would have no choice but to bend to his wishes- Mao had never been good at refusing Ritsu, after all. If breaking off their friendship was something Ritsu wanted to do, Mao would comply. If leaving the one person he felt truly at home with would make Ritsu happy, Mao would do so without hesitation. Sometimes he felt as if there wasn’t a single thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Ritsu- and sometimes, in moments of glitter and optimism, he thought that Ritsu might feel the same way about him.</p><p>But when it all boiled down to it, Mao was Mao, and Ritsu was… well, <em> Ritsu. </em> A member of one of the most prestigious units in the entire school (soon to be industry, probably), a handsome, breathtakingly <em> cute </em>guy with thousands of fans clamouring for his attention. Someone brave and plenty skilled, languid yet deft with his movements on stage as he enraptured the hearts of his audience with a voice like honey.</p><p>Ritsu could get anyone he wanted. He was a star, after all, not an inconsiderable flashlight.</p><p>“-chan. Mao-chan?”</p><p>Mao blinked, head jolting upwards. Arashi was looking at him with a concerned expression on her face- ah, he’d spaced out, then. Heat rushed to his cheeks and he hurriedly got to his feet, ignoring the scrape of wood against the floor as he pushed his chair backwards. “I have to go. Sorry. Student council stuff.”</p><p>That technically wasn’t a lie- the student council <em> always </em>had work piled up, so if Mao went to the designated room right now, there’d definitely be something for him to do. (Something to help take his mind off this entire fiasco.) No doubt Arashi knew as well as he did that this was just a convenient excuse, but she simply hummed in response, letting Mao get away with it. “Alright. But, Mao-chan?”</p><p>...Maybe Mao wasn’t completely getting away with it, after all. “Yeah?”</p><p>Arashi looked him dead in the eye, and there wasn’t a trace of playfulness or amusement in her gaze, this time. “Talk to him. He’ll realise you’re avoiding him eventually, you know. You can’t ignore this forever, and I promise he won’t react the way you think he will.”</p><p><em> So she noticed I’m already starting to avoid him, huh. </em>He hadn’t even done that much, yet- just a quick lie to get out of having lunch with Ritsu, and another so he wouldn’t have to walk him home. “How do you know he won’t?”</p><p>Arashi shrugged, and there was that playfulness again, along with a touch of feigned nonchalance. “I just know. Trust me, Mao-chan, women are experts when it comes to this kind of thing.”</p><p>Mao sighed, turning heel to leave the room. “I’ll try.”</p><p>•••</p><p>“Naaaaacchan.”</p><p>Arashi gave a soft hum to show she was listening, but Ritsu made no other sound as a follow-up. Setting her pencil down, Arashi straightened up a little to peer at her friend across the kotatsu. Ritsu was curled up in the warmth with only his head peeking out, dark strands spilling over the pillow he’d brought to Knights’ studio and dubbed his very own. “Yes, Ritsu-chan?”</p><p>Ritsu let out a groan, rolling over and smushing his face into the pillow. Arashi sort of wanted to pinch his cheeks. “Nacchan, I’m dying.”</p><p>That- Arashi couldn’t quite tell if Ritsu was joking or not. The boy had a morbid sense of humour at times, but Arashi also wouldn’t put it past him to announce his actual predicted death in the middle of what had started off as Knights practice but eventually spiralled into a free period. Naptime for Ritsu, and homework time for a <em> certain </em> hardworking individual. “You don’t mean you’re <em> actually </em>dying, do you?”</p><p>“I do, actually.” Ritsu rolled over again, this time to look up at Arashi with puffed cheeks and the most adorable pout. “Maa-kun’s avoiding me.”</p><p><em> Ah. That idiot. </em> It had been three days since Arashi had explicitly told Mao to just <em> talk </em>to Ritsu rather than avoiding him, but… clearly that advice had gone in one ear and right out the other. Arashi loved Mao as a fellow classmate and friend, but the look on Ritsu’s face right now, however cute, was genuinely troubled. If Mao was the cause of that…</p><p>No, she couldn’t do anything to him. Ritsu would decimate anyone who laid a finger on Mao, regardless of how Mao was treating him. Arashi huffed, leaning back against the cool wall of the studio as she thought. “Have you tried talking to <em> him?” </em></p><p>Ritsu blinked at her, like the idea of talking to Mao was completely new to him. “No. Do you think he’s mad at me?”</p><p><em> Oh god, they’re both idiots. </em> “I highly doubt that, Ritsu-chan. I think he has a different reason.”</p><p>“What <em>e</em><em>lse </em>could there be,“ Ritsu mumbled, slowly dragging himself up into a sitting position- only to slump over the kotatsu and rest his head on the tabletop, hair tickling the tips of Arashi’s worksheet. Typical. “I don’t think I’ve done anything illegal lately...”</p><p>“You don’t <em> think </em>you have?” Not that that was the point- time to go on the offensive. “Never mind. Ritsu-chan, have you talked to Mao-chan about your song yet?”</p><p>Ritsu froze nearly imperceptibly. ”What about my song?”</p><p>Oh, how Arashi wanted to grab the both of these boys’ collars and <em> shake </em>them. “You don’t think you have anything to say to Mao-chan about it?”</p><p>A brief silence followed Arashi’s words, and she crossed her fingers under the kotatsu. <em> Please, please- </em></p><p>“...No. Why?”</p><p><em> Damn it. </em> Arashi fought the urge to let out a groan, or to bang her head against the tabletop. “Ritsu-chan. If I asked you whether your song was inspired by anyone, what would you say?”</p><p>More silence. Ritsu lifted his head from the table, then, gaze devoid of all sleepiness for once. There was something calculating in his eyes instead, as he looked at Arashi. “...If I said yes, what would <em> you </em>say?”</p><p>Well, maybe they were finally getting somewhere. “I’d tell you to talk to the person, and get your feelings out in the open. To stop hiding behind a song and just <em> tell them, </em> because they’re obviously too dense to understand who the song’s really about.”</p><p>Ritsu’s fingers pressed against the tabletop as if he was playing the piano, poised to begin a familiar piece. “What if they don’t feel the same way?”</p><p><em> Oh, to hell with being subtle. </em> "I can absolutely guarantee that they feel the same way."</p><p>Ritsu didn't break eye contact, and neither did Arashi. The dark haired boy seemed to be mulling it over, testing the truth of Arashi's words.</p><p>Then, after what felt like an eternity- "Okay." <em> Yes! </em></p><p>Arashi leapt out of her seat to throw her arms around Ritsu, hugging him tight amidst his half-hearted protests. “I’m so, so happy for the two of you!” she gushed, never mind the fact that Ritsu hadn’t even said a word to Mao yet. All in due time. And then, just to make sure, because it’d be really embarrassing if Arashi had actually pushed Ritsu to confess to someone she hadn’t even anticipated- “We <em> are </em>talking about Mao-chan, right?”</p><p>Ritsu sighed, relaxing against her hold. “As if there’d ever be anyone else.”</p><p>•••</p><p>“Maa-kun. Can I talk to you?”</p><p><em> Crap. </em> He wasn’t ready for this yet, couldn’t muster up the courage to ask Ritsu about the song, hadn’t managed to muster up the courage for <em> three days. </em> And here Ritsu was now, right on Mao’s doorstep a quarter to midnight, leaving Mao with nowhere to run. Maybe he should’ve asked his sister to answer the door, after all.</p><p>“I-” <em> think, think. </em> “Actually, I need to-”</p><p><em> “Maa-kun.” </em> Ah, there was that look on Ritsu that Mao was absolutely weak for- a little annoyed, pouty, yet serious in a way that got Mao’s blood racing and- what the <em> fuck </em>was he thinking. “Maa-kun, this is serious.”</p><p>The way the nickname rolled off Ritsu’s tongue so easily, so smoothly, like he’d been made to say it in such a soft, enticing way was <em> not </em>doing Mao’s willpower any favours. And, well- putting his stupid crush aside, if Ritsu said this was serious, it was serious. Mao would never turn Ritsu away after being addressed so openly like this, regardless of how he was feeling. “...Yeah. Let’s go. Just let me get my-”</p><p>“I brought you a scarf.” Ritsu held up the aforementioned garment- black and white and a dark shade of purple, the colours forming a mixed pattern through stripes. Now that Mao was thinking about it, actually…</p><p>He felt the corners of his lips turn upwards in a fond smile. “Isn’t that one of mine?”</p><p>“You lost your right of ownership the moment you didn’t realise I took it,” Ritsu said with a languid grin. Mao rolled his eyes and took the scarf, their hands brushing in the slightest as he did so. He nearly jerked his hand away at the contact, but stopped himself at the very last second- the tiny jump didn’t seem to go unnoticed by Ritsu, however, whose expression slipped back into serious mode immediately.</p><p>Worry crashed over Mao like a wave, all of a sudden- he hadn’t spoken to Ritsu properly in days, had he? Had something happened that Mao wasn’t aware of? Ritsu could be hurting all alone right now, solely because Mao was too cowardly to just face the guy he liked rather than avoid him for half a week. “Ritsu-”</p><p>“Let’s go.” Echoing Mao’s earlier words, Ritsu took Mao’s wrist and tugged him off the doorstep. Mao barely had the time to wind the scarf around his neck (it smelled like Ritsu) and call for his sister to lock the door behind him before Ritsu was dragging him out of earshot, wide awake and at full strength now that it was nighttime.</p><p>Mao’s lips formed a question, about to ask where they were going out of pure instinct- but, looking around, he closed his mouth once more. He knew this neighbourhood like the back of his hand, and so did Ritsu. The place Ritsu was taking him to right now was definitely, <em> definitely- </em></p><p>“The park, huh,” Mao murmured, and Ritsu gave a soft hum in response. His grip on Mao’s wrist didn’t falter, and Mao didn’t try to make it. He was already fully preoccupied with trying not to get <em> too </em>immersed in the fact that he could probably shift their hands a little and intertwine their fingers if he wanted to, right now.</p><p>(He wanted to. Badly. But that would probably make Ritsu uncomfortable, so...)</p><p><em> You two hold hands all the time, though? </em> Mao beat the thought back with a metaphysical stick. Sure, it wasn’t as if they <em> didn’t </em>hold hands, but all the times that had happened were Ritsu’s doing. And Ritsu probably didn’t mean anything by it, anyway- this was all platonic. Platonic hand holding did exist, no matter how much Mao wished it didn’t, between him and Ritsu.</p><p><em> No use wishing. </em>“We’re here,” Ritsu said quietly, and then they were sitting beneath a familiar tree, side by side, shoulders nearly brushing. There was only a centimetre of space between them, if even that.</p><p>Ritsu didn’t let go of Mao’s wrist, and Mao didn’t pull away.</p><p>“You wanted to talk?” Mao asked softly, after a few moments of companionable silence. He could catch a glimpse of the moon through gaps between greenery overhead, and… a glimpse of a completely different moon beside him, one who was far more stunning and gorgeous and lovely than his namesake.</p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Ritsu mumbled, as if he’d forgotten the reason they’d come here in the first place. He was looking up at the sky, and when Mao followed his gaze, he saw that Ritsu was looking at the moon as well, and Mao sort of wanted to kiss him. “I wanted to.. Yeah. Let’s talk.”</p><p>Ritsu’s grip on Mao tightened slightly, and Mao watched as he took a shaky breath, then released it. “Take your time,” Mao said, and before his mind even registered what his body was doing, he’d taken Ritsu’s hand in his, running a thumb over the side of Ritsu’s palm. Ritsu froze around the same time Mao did, and <em> fuckfuckfuck </em>he’d screwed up, he’d colossally-</p><p>Ritsu squeezed his hand.</p><p>He did it tightly, like he was holding on to Mao for dear life- but also carefully, like he was trying to be gentle but whatever nerves Mao knew were eating away at him were preventing him from doing so. A silent question, a plea for reassurance.</p><p>Mao squeezed back.</p><p>
  <em> It’s okay. </em>
</p><p>“So, the thing is,” Ritsu said, quite obviously <em> not </em>looking at Mao in favour of directing his words towards the shining orb a thousand miles above them instead, “I like someone.”</p><p><em> Ah. </em> Mao’s heart plummeted like a sack of coal being dropped off the edge of a cliff. This- this was exactly what he’d been fearing, then. That Ritsu would finally tell him about whoever it was he was in love with. The person who wasn’t Mao. The person who made Ritsu happy, the person Ritsu yearned for nearly every waking moment of the day, the person Ritsu couldn’t be with no matter how hard he tried, yet Ritsu still <em> tried so hard for, </em> singing an <em> eternal promise </em>or whatever the hell he’d called it in those lyrics. The person-</p><p>“I like <em> you, </em> Maa-kun.”</p><p>Everything in Mao’s universe spun and spun, before coming to an abrupt, screeching halt.</p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>This- Ritsu wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be. Mao blinked, tearing his eyes away from the moon they’d both been staring at in favour of looking at <em> Ritsu, </em> and- well, Ritsu didn’t look like he was joking. His lips were pressed together as if he was making a physical effort not to let any more words escape, and the look in his eyes was uncertain, gaze fixed on Mao like he was watching his every move. Like he was on tenterhooks for an answer.</p><p>And Mao-</p><p>Mao couldn’t speak. He gaped at Ritsu, every single thought in his brain kicked up a hundred notches in terms of processing speed yet so, so slow when faced with the task of producing output. Ritsu- Ritsu was saying that-</p><p>And then Ritsu was tugging his hand from Mao’s, shifting a little to the side, turning his body away. “Ah,” came a soft sound, and Ritsu sounded so unbearably sad and defeated and <em> aching </em> it sent daggers straight through Mao’s heart. “I’m sorry. I thought- maybe- I’m sorry. Just forget about it, okay? It’s fine. We can pretend this never happened.” Ritsu stood, and Mao scrambled to do the same, every single cell in his body screaming at him to say something, <em> say something </em> because Ritsu’s voice had gone tight and his hands had begun to grip tightly at his arms, and Mao hadn’t been Ritsu’s best friend for over a decade not to recognise when Ritsu was about to cry.</p><p><em> “Ritchan.” </em>The nickname pushed itself from Mao’s lips almost involuntarily as he grabbed Ritsu’s wrist, a painful sort of role-reversal from the way Ritsu had taken Mao’s earlier. Ritsu froze in his tracks, and Mao stumbled after him. “Ritsu, I- Ritchan. I like you. I like you too, I love you, I-” Mao ignored every one of the warning signals his mind was giving him and continued, words flowing from his lips unchecked. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, I just- I read some of your song on accident, and I sort of freaked out, I guess, and I didn’t know what to say, and- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ritchan.”</p><p>Ritsu turned to look at him, slowly. His voice came out hesitant, and Mao gripped his wrist a little tighter. “You- you read my song?”</p><p>“A bit of it, yeah. I didn’t mean to, I swear, I just-”</p><p>“Was it…” Ritsu trailed off, and Mao kept his silence, unwilling to disrupt Ritsu’s train of thought despite the way Mao’s entire body felt like it was vibrating with nervous energy. ”Was it okay?”</p><p><em> Was it- </em> Mao sighed. “It’s so good it made me rethink literally every thought I’d ever had about you, Ritchan. In a good way. I thought- the idea of you feeling like <em> that, </em> about <em> someone else, </em> was...”</p><p><em> Excruciating </em>. Mao didn’t have the time to finish his sentence, however, as a ball of warmth immediately barrelled into his chest, dark haired and smelling like the same strawberry shampoo he’d been using since he was a kid. Mao smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around Ritsu and holding him closer, closer.</p><p>There was a soft sniff, however, and a surge of alarm rose in Mao’s chest as he pulled back slightly to look at Ritsu. Ritsu’s eyes were wet and shining under the light of the moon, tears coming down in glistening tracks over his cheeks. <em> “Ritchan,” </em> Mao said softly, as he wiped the tears from those porcelain cheeks. “Shh, it’s okay. I love you, Ritsu, I love you so much.”</p><p>He could say that, now. He could tell Ritsu he loved him, <em> show </em> Ritsu he loved him in a thousand different ways, anytime he wanted. (Well, maybe not <em> anytime, </em> but the gist of it was there.)</p><p>Ritsu made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob. Tears continued to fall but he was smiling, now, and- oh, it’d been so long since Mao had seen Ritsu smile at him like that. Three days might as well have been three years. Mao couldn’t stop himself from huffing a laugh too, gently thumbing the dampness from Ritsu’s cheeks again before leaning in to push some hair away and press a kiss to his forehead. Ritsu made a soft sound of surprise in the back of his throat, eyes going wide as he looked at Mao- yet his smile didn’t fade in the slightest, and before Mao knew it, Ritsu was giving Mao a kiss of his own- on the lips, this time.</p><p>The kiss was short and chaste, nothing fancy or particularly skillful- just a quick press of lips to lips. But it made an unrivaled fondness bubble up in Mao’s chest nonetheless, because this was <em> Ritsu. </em> Ritsu, whom he loved, who loved him back.</p><p>They walked home hand in hand, Ritsu humming a gentle, soothing melody as their shoulders bumped and they shared each other’s warmth.</p><p>(“Is that the tune of your song?”)</p><p>(“Yeah. I’m thinking of calling it a nocturne, or something.”)</p><p>Down on his wrist, the hands of Mao’s watch struck midnight.</p><p>•••</p><p>
  <em> Even if you can't hear me, I'm right here </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Because even if I can't reach you, we're always together </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The pale blue moon connects us </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Now, close your eyes and let us sing. </em>
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